Five Times Cardin Winchester Violated Jaune Arc's Personal Space
by AuroraBlix
Summary: "... And The One Time He (Surprisingly) Didn't": Nobody noticed the first, or even the second, time it happened—not even Cardin—but, by the time he had cottoned on, it was too late to do more than slam his head into a desk and his fist into some unfortunate soul's face.
1. intro--crash

1.  
Though the airship didn't pitch and roll in the same way as its water-traversing predecessor, clearly nobody had explained the difference to Jaune's poor stomach—from the moment the young blonde had stepped aboard, the rebellious organ had obviously thrown its metaphorical hands up in surrender and left him to suffer alone, if not silently. To anyone who would come to know him, it would be a major surprise to know that the boy had actually lasted a good twenty minutes before losing the fated battle with his gag reflex.

* * *

Jaune stood in front of one of the windows that looked down upon the kingdom of Vale, resting his hands and forehead against the glass, and gave a pathetic-sounding groan. If he had known the kind of torture he'd have to go through before even being _accepted_ into Beacon Academy, Jaune thought wretchedly, he might not have even bothered!

No, that certainly wasn't true and he knew it, but he at least would have made sure not to eat such a big breakfast…

"Stupid airship, with its stupid engines," he whimpered miserably, breathing through his mouth and trying to ignore the person eating some kind of snack farther down from him. The very _thought_ of food—let alone the sight, smell, or sound of it—seemed to provoke the wrath of Jaune's stomach and its retribution, in the form of yet another wave of nausea, was so swift that he missed Miss Goodwitch's entire speech. He groaned again and prayed for a quick death, preferably before he actually puked.

It passed with relative speed, and after only a few minutes, the blonde teen felt up to pushing away from the view below and turning to leave. He had vague thoughts of finding a small, dark hole and curling up on the floor until they arrived at Beacon, but those were derailed before he'd even finished turning.

From his new position on his back, Jaune looked up at the solid mass of muscle that he'd crashed into—and up and up and up. Unfortunately, he only had time to register burnt-orange hair slicked back and cold indigo eyes before the hard-fought battle for domination over his own body's wishes was lost.

Scrabbling to his feet with uncharacteristic grace born of utter desperation, Jaune Arc rushed past the angry though unfamiliar form before him and sprinted away. Looking back, his two point of pride when it came to that horrendous trip were the facts that he didn't actually vomit _on_ anyone, and that he managed to squeak out a mournful "Sorry!" to the person he'd run into.

**A/N: ... ****_I regret nothing!_**

**I know this is short, the others probably will be as well, but there are still five more to go. I repeat: shame me all you want, tar-and-feather me for all I care, but I will never NOT like Jaune Arc/Cardin Winchester. Deal with it you RWBY-shipping snobs.**


	2. legit intro--sparring

2.  
Cardin Winchester was already on the warpath by the time Goodwitch called on him to help demonstrate their new Scrolls, and the ability they had to quantitatively measure a person's Aura levels. Though he had been named leader of Team CRDL, it seemed the other boys were taking it upon themselves to challenge his authority in the smallest (and most infuriating) of ways—the latest of these small-scale rebellions was their annoying habit of purposely misconstruing his orders during combat training.

So, suffice it to say that being forcibly volunteered for some stupid demonstration did not act as a balm to his already fraying temper. The fact that his sparring partner was none other than the blonde he'd purposely knocked over that first day they arrived at the school? Well, that was just serendipity.

And to think all the orange-haired boy had wanted to do was test the other's center of gravity (the little weakling had ended up flat on his back with the funniest expression of shock on his face) and see how he would react. Much to Cardin's disappointment, all he'd received was the oddest look of awe before that face had turned green and—what had Goodwitch called him? John?—ran off, apologizing to _Cardin_ as if it had been _his_ fault!

Perhaps beating the pulp out of this John fellow would get the reaction he wanted…? Whatever. Even if it didn't, Cardin was going to try his damnedest to get the blonde to yell at or insult him—hell, he'd settle for seeing the other boy clench his little fists and stomp off to rant to his little team about big, bad Cardin Winchester picking on him.

* * *

If he had learned even a shred of human decency as a child, Cardin might have actually felt bad about how utterly terrified _Jaune_ looked as they faced each other in the middle of the battle arena. As it was, he was a lot more concerned that the blonde boy was gonna throw up before they had any fun, despite his feet being planted firmly on the ground this time. (His face was slowly turning that same shade of green that it had when he'd been on the ground on the ship.)

Cardin watched him carefully, tuning out Goodwitch as she explained how to use their Scrolls to plan their attacks, only perking up when he heard her say, "You may begin when you're ready." Indigo eyes glinting, he stalked toward the smaller boy with all the grace and confidence of an experienced predator.

As he did, Jaune stumbled backwards fearfully, matching him step for step until he reached the edge of the arena. Giving a nervous laugh that sounded like much more of a whimper, the blonde rubbed the back of his neck and said, "Did I ever tell you how _incredibly sorry_ I am for running into you when we were on the ship a few days ago?"

That garnered a pause and the realization that his goal was going to be a lot more difficult to accomplish than he initially thought. Cardin was again disappointed by this, before he really thought about how much more of a challenge—how much more _fun_—this was going to be if he had such an, ahem, _delicate _disposition.

He made it look as if he was thinking over Jaune's (second) apology, before he swung his mace up to rest on his shoulder (noticing the full-body flinch the other boy gave as he did) and gave a winning smile. The blonde's body relaxed a bit at the sight, his shoulders lowering and giving a small, hesitant smile in return.

Cardin struck.

Quick as a snake, he lashed out with his mace, intending to end the "battle" with one blow. Jaune gave a startled yelp and ducked madly, bringing up the arm that wasn't holding his sword (which suddenly had a shield on it) to block the heavy metal implement hurtling toward his head. It struck the shield and the blonde stumbled under the force of it—knees buckling and blue eyes widening in terror—but he managed to push it away and duck around the orange-haired boy before he was actually pushed to the ground.

In spite of himself, Cardin was the slightest bit impressed by the blonde's tenacity as he spun and was met with a sword aiming for his torso. He blocked it easily and returned with yet another powerful stroke that managed to send Jaune to floor, but he supposed it was the thought that counted. Hoping it would serve to infuriate the smaller boy, Cardin grabbed his sword arm as he dazedly made his way to his feet and twisted it painfully so that it was pinned between his shoulder blades.

Jaune let out a pained yelp and his weapon clattered to the ground, the task of keeping hold of it on track to break his wrist. Since Goodwitch hadn't called the match yet, the larger boy gave a mental shrug and yanked the blonde up against his front, stowing his mace so that he could grab the neck of the blonde's armor and use it for leverage.

Though his loud whimpers and constant litany of "Ow, ow, _ow_!" continued, Cardin didn't let up his grip until Goodwitch's voice rang out into the tense silence that permeated the room.

"That's quite enough. Mister Winchester, Mister Arc, thank you for that demonstration. That will be all," the older woman said with a hard look at both boys, and began to explain what the red bar on Jaune's Scroll meant. Cardin might have thought that her tone was reproachful, if he had ever heard her voice sound any different in the few days he'd known her.

He released Jaune's arm and the other boy breathed a sigh of relief, stooping after a moment to pick up his sword. Annoyed at his timid behavior, Cardin made a point of bumping into the blonde as he headed toward the stairs, sending him back onto the ground sprawled on his stomach.

"Oh, _come on_," Jaune complained as he got back up again and dusted himself off. His curiosity peaked, the larger boy spun to look challengingly at him, hoping that he'd finally get a reaction he liked. Instead, the other simply squeaked and backed up several feet.

Cardin smirked in response to hide his growing frustration, thinking that he was going to have an interesting relationship with Jaune Arc as the blonde rush toward his team and was fussed over by the stacked red-head he vaguely recognized from something related to cereal.

* * *

**A/N: I've decided I'm just going to name these chapters using what I have written down as the outline for each. I feel like this will really give people an inside look when it comes to my writing- and thought-processes.**


	3. realization--bullying

3.  
Anger was an intimately familiar feeling to Cardin, but this all-encompassing fury was new and driving him to distraction. Not only had Arc not risen to any of the times the larger boy had baited him, but a comment one of the wimp's little friends had made put a feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach.

(_"__Geez, you'd think Musclebrains had a thing for Jaune, the way he keeps bothering the poor guy…"_)

The thing that was causing the most frustration, however, was Jaune himself—the orange-haired boy had knocked books out of his hands, gotten him stuck in a doorway by activating his shield (getting a pretty good feel for the shape of his hip at the same time), and in a moment of desperation and inspiration had even stuffed him inside his own rocket-locker and sent it three miles away from the school. And yet, instead of telling him off or getting help from a teacher, like any _normal_ person would, he seemed determined to pretend that nothing was going on… Was he _blind_?!

Cardin had even gone so far as to branch out in his harassment to others in the hope that the blonde would step in. He got nothing but dirty looks from the majority of the school population for that, and Jaune had developed a bad habit of running in the opposite direction whenever he saw the larger boy and thought he hadn't been spotted. Of course, Cardin _always_ noticed the blonde before even his so-called "friends" noticed his presence, often before Jaune even knew _he_ was in the room as well.

So. Incredibly. Frustrating.

What did he have to do to get noticed on his own—hold a flashing sign above his head with the words "Pay the fuck attention to me, you idiot!" written in bold, italicized caps?

Was Jaune actually _that_ oblivious, or was he just too busy staring into that red-head's eyes when she cooed over his cuts and bruises to notice? That last idea was… oddly infuriating. Still, maybe he _should_tone it down, if only because he'd been looking rather strained lately—even his friends had noticed and commented on it in the mess hall. (What? It had great acoustics, okay, and it was easy to hear them talking!)

* * *

Indigo eyes tracked Jaune as he made his way out of the mess hall, and Cardin waited a few minutes before following. He stood in the middle of the hall outside, casting around for whichever way the blonde had gone, when he heard a voice muttering frantically some where left and around the corner.

"If it's not in my room and it's not in my pocket, then where is it?" The easily-identifiable voice rose in pitch with the owner's stress- level, and the orange-haired boy began to stroll in that direction. "Maybe I left it at the breakfast table…? Yeah, that's probably it… I bet Pyrrha—_umph!_"

Jaune appeared just before the larger turned the corner, plowing into him with enough force to know them both off-balance—the blonde automatically reach out to steady himself, but at the same time Cardin had reached out to steady _him_, and both boys ended up crashing to the ground.

As they fell, Cardin's training kicked in and he rolled them both so they landed with him (for lack of a more comfortable word) straddling the smaller boy, hands wrapped around his biceps and faces mere inches apart. Neither of them dared breathe for a single tense moment—eyes locked together, Cardin had to fight to keep his from dropping to Jaune's lips, or even to just close the remaining space between them.

The spell, however, was broken when Jaune squeaked, nervous and gulping, "C-Cardin?"

Snapping out of it, the orange-haired boy in question leaped to his feet with some kind of sound meant to denote disgust or scorn or… something. (Don't ask him, because he has absolutely no idea, either.) He dusted himself off and looked down at the boy still lying on the ground—with legs spread, resting on his forearms, blonde hair tousled, and blue eyes dazed, the larger boy had to clench his fists to keep from dragging Jaune into the nearest closet and ravishing him.

Instead, he reached down, clasped the front of Jaune's armor, and hauled the blonde to his feet. His body seemed to get what it _wanted_ and what his brain was _telling_ it to do a little confused, though, and dragged him closer before pushing him toward the direction of the mess hall. Cardin bared his teeth and did his best to sound pissed off as he snarled, "Watch where you're going, _Jauney_."

True to his latest form, the smaller boy turned tail and sprinted for the relative safety of the people still eating breakfast. This was especially fortunate, Cardin thought, as it allowed him to slam his forehead into the nearest stone wall and berate himself without an audience.

"You called him _Jauney_?" he groaned to himself, eyes closed and fists, once again, clenched. "Are you_insane_? What is _wrong_ with you?!"

Heaving a sigh filled with self-disgust, Cardin pushed away from the wall and began trudging in the direction of his dorm. He knew the other members of CRDL were off doing something else—probably harassing Velv; the little faunus really was a saint for agreeing to play along with his "bullying", and he would be forever grateful to his old classmate from Channel Academy—and prayed he would have enough time for a short (and very _cold_) shower before Oobleck's class started.

How that he was alone, Cardin just couldn't get the sense-memory of the blonde beneath him, or the exact color of his bright blue eyes, out of his mind. Bother, as well as numerous other details of the encounter, kept flashing before his eyes and were extremely… effecting.

* * *

**A/N: Brace yourselves, I'm not stopping for at least another three chapters. The next should be on Tuesday (fuckin' Labor Day...).**


	4. Jaune('s Secret) Punishment

4.  
Sometimes a person would look back on a series of choices with the jaded eyes of retrospect and want to punch their past-selves. Hard, in the face, with a chair. That was a pretty fair approximation of how Cardin felt as he began to don his gold-trimmed silver armor—like he would be grateful if Headmaster Ozpin used his semblance to go back in time and smack him hard upside the head.

Now he was just digging his hole deeper, all because he couldn't resist the impulse to hear his (massive) crush's voice, and eavesdropped on a clearly private conversation. Finished with his armor, Cardin sunk into the empty chair before his desk and let his head drop onto the wooden surface. It made a satisfying_thunk_, but he still sighed at the prospect of yet another sleepless night spent in a dark corner of the library for (yet another) clandestine homework session.

It was surprisingly hard to keep up the charade of hating Jaune enough to make him do the other's homework when the larger boy had only been getting half the amount of sleep he needed, and as such, he'd been making mistakes. He passed it off to Trhush and the others as reminding the blonde of how much bigger he was, but Cardin had been a lot more… tactile with Jaune since the rooftop. Of course, he blamed it on the sleep-deprivation, but the orange-haired teen knew that it was just giddiness at finally being allowed to touch coupled with a lack of self-control. (It was a _very_ good thing that nobody had seem him thwack the other boy on the butt at the end of Professor Peach's class, because there was no way he could explain _that_ away…)

Cardin lifted his head slightly at the memory and let it fall back down, letting out another sigh. At least the other boy's grades had been improving since their little agreement, so there was that to make him feel like slightly less of a douche for making the blonde such a nervous wreck. There Jaune was, busting his ass to do quality work for Cardin's classes—the least he could do was turn it in with the right name written on it and do his own work where nobody could catch him. Even if he lost a little sleep because of it, even if his own grades slipped a bit, it was worth it to get Jaune to put actual effort into his classes.

Still couldn't keep from calling him "Jauney Boy", though, so there was at least one downside to the situation other than chronic exhaustion. "And making him hate me even more than he already did," Cardin groaned to himself, rising to his feet with thoughts of readjusting the firing mechanism of his mace.

Casting around for the weapon, the orange-haired boy stood in the middle of the dorm room for a few moments before a knock came at the door. Cardin rolled his shoulders, and prepared a tongue-lashing for whichever teammate had forgotten something, before he pulled the door open—all thoughts immediately flew out of his head when face with the mop of blonde hair and bright blue eyes he'd just been thinking about.

"I, um, I have that paper for Port's class," Jaune stuttered, eyes submissively downcast and body language nervous. If the larger teen had come from slightly less noble stock, he might have stared with an open mouth at the almost-black bruise that bloomed across the other boy's cheekbone. As it was, Cardin automatically lunged forward, grabbed the back of Jaune's neck, and yanked him into the room.

The blonde immediately began to struggle, but stilled when he realize that his orange-haired companion was forcefully cupping his jaw with one and hand and using the leverage to tilt it this way and that for a better look. His eyes widened more and more as Cardin's narrowed further and further, examining the injury from every angle and gripping Jaune's shoulder with his other hand to keep him from moving. After a few extremely tense moments, the larger boy released him and Jaune stumbled back several feet, looking downright alarmed by the reaction.

Cardin tried to control his breathing and when that failed, he grabbed the sheaf of papers still clutched tightly in the other's hand to distract himself. Scanning the words without really seeing them, he tried to keep his voice unconcerned (or, at least, steady) as he asked, "_So_… Who gave you the shiner?"

Cautious when the larger teen had begun, Jaune gave a disbelieving, ungentlemanly snort. "I figured they would've fun around bragging," the blond replied, voice bitter and full of resentment. "Your little"—Jaune cast about for the right word, before settling on—"_attack dogs_ cornered me a couple hours ago outside the mess hall."

His entire demeanor was surprisingly vehement in its nastiness until he seemed to remember who he was talking to, shut his mouth with an audible snap, and gulped. Indigo eyes blazing, Cardin made a mental note to "subtly" put a _No Touching_ rule into effect concerning Jaune and the rest of CRDL, before setting the essay down on his previously empty desk.

He slung on arm companionably around the blonde's shoulders and complimented the work the other boy put into the paper (mentioning that, as always, he'd turn both "his" and Jaune's assignments in together) as he guided him out of the room. "Now, I know you haven't had the class yet today," Cardin began, "but Peach gave out a pretty important Dust project today…"

* * *

(Several hours later, a new rule was put into effect on Team CRDL, stating that Russell, Dove, and Lark weren't allowed to physically harm Cardin's new "friend" unless he was around to enjoy it.)

* * *

**A/N: Yeah, I said I'd do it yesterday, but I got a little stuck. Obviously. Next (and last) one should be either tomorrow or Friday, depending on how things go.**


	5. Attention becomes INtention

5.  
If Cardin Winchester wasn't already "in love", then he certainly was now.

Not that he hadn't been falling ever since he met those bright, bright blue eyes, saw that messy blonde hair, heard that stupid laugh—it was just when Jaune Arc stood up to him in Forever Fall that he finally hit the ground. The best thing—the only good thing about it, really—was that now Cardin could finally stand on two feet around the other boy. No more dancing around the issue, no more being caught flat-footed, just a simple man-to-man conversation.

The orange-haired boy was almost ecstatic at finally having a plan, and hated to wait until the end of class before implementing it, but for Jaune, he could wait with the patience of a saint until Oobleck was gone.

* * *

It took an annoyingly long time for Pyrrha's question to be answered to the redhead's satisfaction, but eventually Professor Oobleck blurred out the door of his classroom and Cardin heard the two others still in the room agree to meet up a few hours later. He leaned farther back when the green-eyed warrior goddess exited, hoping that she wouldn't see and call him out—evidently, she didn't, because she continued down with hallway without pause.

Indigo eyes closing briefly as he heard that telltale set of footsteps getting louder, Cardin took a deep breath just before that mop of blonde hair entered his vision. The boy it belonged to only made it a few steps in his chosen direction before he was yanked back into the classroom by the back of his armor (location having been carefully chosen so as not to physically harm him or tear any clothing).

Predictably, Jaune let out an undignified yelp at the forcible removal back into the room, which turned into something remarkably close to a growl when he saw who had grabbed hold of him. "Cardin, if you're trying to—"

"I'm not!" Cardin cut him off quickly, knowing that he had to do this fast or not at all. He let go of the other boy's armor so he could close the door, but at the same time Jaune had tried to pull himself free and the sudden lack of resistance had him staggering back several steps. Abandoning the door, Cardin reached out to steady the smaller boy, pulling his hand back when the attempt was met with a relatively fierce glare. "I'm not trying to do anything, except…"

Jaune looked at him suspiciously, and rightly so, as the larger teen rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably and searched for the words to make him understand. A moment passed like this, one boy opening and closing his mouth repeatedly without saying a word, while the other stood by Oobleck's desk and looked both cautious and unimpressed. It couldn't last, though, and before long Cardin simply gave up. _Screw the plan,_ he thought with no small amount of desperation.

He stalked toward the blonde intently—backing him up so that he was pressed against the desk—then wound his fingers into his hair and crushed their mouths together.

This wasn't some little kid sneaking a peck on the lips—it was adult and it was aggressive, just like the one delivering it. Cardin pressed himself flush against the blonde; molding his left hand to the shape of Jaune's hip and slotting a leg between his. Since his mouth with slack with (entirely understandable) surprise, the larger teen took the opportunity to slip his tongue past the lips he'd often caught himself staring at.

It seemed to snap Jaune out of whatever daze he'd been in, too, and he pushed against Cardin's chest with all his strength when the orange-haired boy's tongue stroked his own.

Cardin's response was a deep, rumbling growl in the back of his throat and to drag the other boy closer. He pulled his mouth back slightly and nipped at Jaune's lower lip, pressing his leg between the blonde's with just a little bit more force and—the smaller boy let out something between a whimper and a moan, and Cardin grinned.

* * *

**A/N: I should feel bad, but I don't. Next one on Monday. Also, I'm working on this series on "ArchiveOfOurOwn" dot "org" slash "series" slash "146916"**


	6. Cardin's Version of Courting

1.  
Jaune's brain pretty much short-circuited the moment _Cardin fucking Winchester_ crowded him against Professor Oobleck's desk and proceeded to give him the filthiest kiss he'd ever experienced. It rebooted and went into overdrive, though, when the larger boy's hands began to wander, so pushing him away was both automatic and instinctive.

He knew it wouldn't make much of an impact on the other boy, of course, but he still panicked when all Cardin did was hold him tighter, and nearly died of humiliation at the noise he made when the orange-haired boy… well, yeah. Jaune could feel Cardin's mouth curve in a small smirk at the sound and took a deep breath in preparation to push him again, harder this time. Before the shame (and subsequent urge to throw up and maybe cry a little…) faded enough for that, however, there came a polite cough.

The larger boy reluctantly pulled away after a parting nip of Jaune's bottom lip and casually turned toward the sound—standing in the doorway was a gob-smacked Pyrrha and a disturbingly amused-looking Velvet Scarlatina. "Oh, don't mind us," the little faunus said with a devious smirk. "I just left my notes in here when I left class and Nikkos offered to come get them with me."

Jaune's face went from tomato-red to beet-purple within the space of three seconds when Velvet's eyes quite obviously dipped toward his jeans and then when she felt the need to nudge Pyrrha and oh-so-subtly bring the other girl's attention to the blonde's… current state. He gave up any thoughts of dignity a moment later and just gave a high-pitched squeak when Cardin gave a wicked smile, said "Let me help you look for them, Velv", and gave Jaune's rear a squeeze as he brushed past on the way to the desks.

It may have been the most uncomfortable five minutes of the blonde's life, the time that it took for the larger boy and the faunus girl to "find" her notes, all the while chatting amiably like old friends. And that included every instance in which Jaune had failed to pick of a girl, been beaten in combat by literally _anyone_ , and even that time he walked into the JNPR dorm room that first night as a team to find Nora fast asleep while curled up against Ren's back wearing _nothing_ except one of the other boy's shirts.

(The conversation went something like this.

Cardin: "So, how's tricks?"

Velvet: "Oh, you know, been trying to finish up that assignment Port handed out last week and still have time to go to that AchieveMen concert."

Cardin: "Yeah? Need any help? I finished it up a couple days ago, and was actually planning on going to the same concert."

Velvet: "Really? I never would have pegged you for a fan—I mean, 'Cardin Winchester: closet boy-band fan' doesn't really have the same ring to it as 'Cardin Winchester: wooer of Grimm, slayer of women' does."

Cardin: "Aah, you gotta stop making that joke, Velv! I was nervous and made an ass out of myself. Let it go."

Velvet: "Oh, and that's like seeing a unicorn in the city, it's so rare."

Cardin: "Keep that up and I won't let you use the extra front-row ticket and backstage pass that I just so happen to have…"

Velvet: "Oh, my Dust! You've got _front-row seats_ ? I'd give my first-born child for the chance to see them that close."

Cardin: "Uh, yeah, that's not really necessary, Velv. How 'bout you just agree to never tell that failed-pick-up-line story to the guys?"

Velvet: "Deal… Ooh, found them! How did they even get under there?"

Cardin: "I can't imagine. Here, let me… Hey did you hear that they're gonna be throwing free T-shirts into the crowd at the concert?"

Velvet: "No! The one with the thing about the eggplant?"

Cardin: "Huh-uh, that motto from the latest podcast."

Velvet: "… 'When in doubt, rub one out'?"

Cardin: "That's the one… Got them!")

When the notes had been retrieved, both (supposed) bully and (supposed) victim made their way to the door, still deep in their… slightly disturbing conversation. As they reached the exit, though, the orange-haired boy spun around and loped gracefully back to where Jaune and Pyrrha stood rooted to the spot.

Cardin stepped right up to the blonde, once again, but instead of pressing forward and taking without permission, he used one finger to carefully tilt Jaune's face up and slowly leant down to brush his lips against the other boy's. His indigo eyes didn't leave Jaune's bright blues the entire time, and he gave the blonde plenty of time to pull away.

"You absolute _girl_ , Winchester," Velvet teased as the larger boy jogged back over to where she stood a moment later. "What's next—drinking form the same milkshake and holding hands and calling each other disgusting pet names like 'sweet cheeks' and 'honey bun'?"

He gave an ungentlemanly snort as he replied, "I think there's gonna have to be a lot more wooing and hands-and-knees groveling before he lets me call him anything even close to that. Besides, I've got a little more class than that: I'd call him 'hot stuff'."

Jaune's face flamed as he heard Velvet crow from the hallway, "Oh, there's gonna be a lot of _something_ on your knees, Winchester! Are you sure you don't need to practice that motto from the T-shirt before we start on that project?"

The two voices faded away (presumably as they rounded the corner), but not before he and Pyrrha heard the orange-haired boy say, "Why are you such a perv about everything, Velv? I've known you for years but your jokes never get any classier…"

Silence descended in the classroom between the two team members, both studiously avoiding each other's eyes. Eventually, though, the red-haired Huntress-in-training broke it. "So, do you want to talk—"

"Nope."

"Do you want to just pretend it nev—"

"Yep."

A heavy pause.

"… Would you like the room to yourself when we get back to the dorm?"

"I'd appreciate that, yeah."

* * *

**A/N: You know, I had such high hopes for this story, and it just sort of degenerated into borderline-crack. Nice. Oh well, at least I had fun writing it, and that plot that I wanted to include shall be incorporated into my weird reverse!verse AU thing I'm writing and the RWBY/RvB crossover I'm planning.**

**Also, yeah, I don't know why I made Velvet such a perv, but I don't regret it. My rationale is that she's a bunny, and what are bunnies known for again?**

**Sorry this took so long, but things got really hectic and I didn't have time to type this out. Hope you liked it at least a little.**


End file.
